Dark Waltz
by felineofoz
Summary: She had always been a monster. The only changes that came with time were a pretty face, a thirst for human blood, and a mate with a heart as twisted as hers. Victoria- centric. HIATUS.
1. Of Dust and Families

**A/N: This is my first attempt at a multi- chaptered Twilight fic. I had been playing around with various ideas for one before committing to this one. **

**I know that according to the Twilight Saga Wiki Victoria became a vampire in 1914, but we're learning about the industrial revolution in school, so this origin stuck. The plan for the story for right now is to have it span from the day she became a vampire to the death of James.**

**The lines at the beginning and the end of the chapter are lyrics from the song Dark Waltz by Hayley Westenra. This will more than likely carry through all the chapters in the fic, until this song runs out, in which case I will pick another song (most likely by her).**

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, not me.**

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_We are the lucky ones_

Victoria woke up at about four o'clock that morning to get ready and walk to work. She shook her younger brothers awake and packed their dinners. She knew better than to try to wake her father. What good was he anyway?

Victoria was not a bad person, but sometimes, when she was really upset, she would envision all the possible ways of killing that man. They were usually painful and they usually involved him begging for mercy. In the end she would always grant it, by ending his unfortunate life. Then she and the boys would be alone, without their father drinking every bit of their earnings he could get his filthy hands on.

She was imagining what it would be like to strangle him with her hair ribbon as she pulled her unruly red hair back. The family had no mirrors, so she had to make do with trying to catch her reflection off of a window. She was not pretty, but she never had any time to dwell on that fact.

The two boys grabbed their dinner buckets. Victoria took hers as well, and she ruffled their hair, which was as vividly red as hers. The poor boys were much younger than her (she was seventeen, they were ten), and Victoria loved them dearly. They were wise beyond their years, a direct result of fourteen- hour workdays, but they were lacking in knowledge. She had tried to teach them to read and write, but they always fell asleep (often times Victoria included). Those two boys deserved so much more out of life. Their childhoods had been stolen.

They walked down the road in silence. Victoria supposed that it was sunrise, but she couldn't see it through the black cloud that seemed to surround everyone, everything, everywhere. She took her breaths shallowly, but she could not help but cough.

"Are you alright?" her little brother William asked. Victoria twisted her lips upward in the shallow imitation of a smile, as she had long since forgotten how to actually do it.

"I'm fine Willie," she lied through her teeth. Her response seemed to suffice. Willie grabbed her hand as they neared the mill. Both boys were doffers, while Victoria worked in the dusty card room.

They entered the mill and went their separate ways. Victoria prayed that they'd make it home. She worked later than them, so she could not guarantee their safety returning home. With any luck (luck being a purely relative term), their father would be out getting drunk beyond all belief, so they could hide a portion of their money and get some sleep. She had a good (again, relative term) feeling that their place would be safe after about seven o'clock.

She threw herself into the monotony of her work. This was her life, formulaic and predictable. And she hated it. She hated her father. She hated her job. She hated the hardened look in her brothers' eyes. She hated the coal. She hated the dust. She hated everything.

"Victoria!" one of the girls, a scrawny little thing with wispy dirty- blonde hair, yelled.

"Yes?" Victoria shrieked back. The girl coughed in response, and then she informed Victoria that she had forgotten what she had to say.

Victoria rolled her eyes. She was one of them, and she hated that she was one of them. She wanted to rip all of their limbs off and burn them. She wanted them to take their screechy voices and go to hell.

She hummed tunelessly while she worked, not that it did any good. One could barely hear themselves think, let alone sing. Victoria had once been one of those very rare people with a pure voice that carried and caressed the ears of those who had been blessed with the opportunity of hearing it. But thanks to the dust and the smog, her voice was gone.

The other girls screeched at each other consistently. Victoria never interrupted them with her own comments. None of them liked her anyway. No matter, she didn't want them to like her. She didn't care if they hated her. She returned the favor.

The overseer yelled that it was time for dinner. Victoria stopped her machine and grabbed her lunch bucket. It was coated with dust. She wiped it off out of habit (it never did much good). She ate whatever it was eagerly. It was disgusting but it satiated some of her hunger. She was used to the gnawing feeling in her stomach. It was another necessary evil in life.

As she worked for the rest of the day, Victoria thought about her mother. Her mother had worked like this too, which was how she had met Victoria's father. Victoria supposed that at some point it had been romantic, but all she could seem to recall were the nights her father came home drunk to beat his wife. Victoria had always been her mother's only solace through it all. She held her mother's hand through the miscarriages. She got a job when it became apparent that her father was too drunk to work, and her mother was too weak. And she was the one holding her mother's hand as she drew her last breath. Victoria had only been twelve.

The room grew colder, and Victoria deduced that night had fallen. There were no windows to glance out of, only blank walls. She continued her work, knowing that there were only a few hours left. She wondered if her brothers had left yet. She prayed that it would be safe at home. She and the boys had a carefully honed system. They saved some of their money, but they left a portion of it on the table so their father wouldn't suspect anything.

She tried to keep her mind on her work as the night progressed. It proved impossible. Damn all this new technology! She could add it to the list of thing she hated. Which was pretty much everything.

"Time to call it a night ladies!" the overseer yelled. Victoria ceased working. The other girls continued their screeching as they did the same. She took her bucket and slipped past him. She practically flew downstairs and out the door into the black night. Darkness was so predictable, and in her case the night brought no shining stars.

She walked silently on the road. All the other girls continued their screeching (did they know how to talk properly?), Victoria slipped down an alley to avoid the crowd. It was a cold, bitter night. She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to warm herself.

"Where you going sweet- heart?" a velvety voice came from nowhere. Victoria quickened her pace. She wasn't going to let anyone take advantage of her.

"Why you running away?" the voice was suddenly in front of her. She could barely make out a large figure ahead of her. He came closer to her, and she could feel his cold breath.

"Not the best scent, but it'll suffice," he whispered. She tried to turn around, but he grabbed her arm. His touch was freezing and he held her arm tightly. She whimpered. "It'll hurt," he hissed.

Victoria screamed out, but he slapped a hand over her mouth. Her jaw cracked and she was in excruciating pain. He had broken her jaw. He threw her too the ground. Everything hurt, and she sobbed. He was suddenly down next to her. He smiled, revealing gorgeous perfectly straight teeth. She tried to move, but everything hurt so much. She wanted to scream, or fight back but she couldn't.

"Goodbye," he murmured. His cold lips brushed across her neck, and suddenly, the pain sharpened. Pure noise erupted from her mouth. The pain… it was too much...

"You're bitter!" he spat. "It wasn't worth it!" And with that he disappeared.

Victoria's world was black. The pain was eating away at her. She prayed that it would just end soon, that she would just die. She knew it was awful to think that, to even think about leaving her brothers to fend for themselves like that. But the pain was too much to bear.

She lay in the alleyway. She could barely feel her salty tears slipping down her face. Her suffering was interrupted by a loud scream. "Help me!"

For a moment, she hoped that someone had found her and was going to save her. But she suddenly realized that the noise had come from her. Her jaw had healed. The pain was beginning to subside. So this was death? It could be worse. She opened her eyes, hoping that her mother would be looking over her.

Everything around her was defined. She could see each individual speck of dust as it floated. She could see the details in every brick. She took in a breath, and she could taste the air around her. There was no reaction in her chest. Victoria brought her hand to her heart. There was no beating.

Where was she? She glanced around, taking in everything around her. She appeared to be in an empty alleyway. She couldn't remember how she had gotten there. All she could remember was the pain. She carefully ran her hand along her jawline. It was smooth, and free from the red bumps of adolescence. She glanced at her hand. It was no longer rough and calloused; it was smooth and white.

"What happened to me?" she whispered. She could barely recognize the voice as her own. It was high- pitched and… girly.

She stood up, surprised at how quickly her body was moving. She walked towards the blinding, brilliant light at the end of the alley. Each beam was brilliant, and Victoria reached out for it.

She stopped breathing when she saw her hand. She stopped moving. For about five minutes, she stared at her hand unblinkingly.

The light reflected off of it, making it look like it was comprised of diamonds. She was (there was really no better word for it)… sparkling.

What was she?

_We shine like a thousand suns_


	2. Of Death and Bloodlust

**A/N: Thanks to Izzyv1o for reviewing the last chapter.**

**Twilight isn't mine. Neither is Victoria. Any character you don't recognize is.**

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_When all the colors run together_

She threw herself into the wall. From behind her she heard a crack. She still wasn't breathing. She pulled herself off the wall, only to see that there was a shapely dent in the wall. Had she done that?

She slumped down against the wall. She was dead, clearly. And no matter what the church had said, she clearly wasn't in heaven with angels and her mother. But she clearly wasn't burning in hellfire. Was she a ghost? No, she felt too solid, too real to be a ghost. She briefly wondered if anyone else would be able to see her. Of course no one could see her! She was dead!

She tested her ability to inhale again. The air was bitter. She could… taste the dust and the coal on her tongue. Her chest did rise, but her lungs no longer needed the air they received. But none of this seemed as pressing as the burning sensation in the back of her throat. She was thirsty. How could dead people be thirsty?

Blurry memories ran through her head, all with one main theme: hatred. Hatred for screeching girls with dusty hair. Coworkers maybe? Yes, that sounded familiar. But even more than that, she felt a deep rooted hatred for an unshaven man with brown eyes and alcohol on his breath. Father. A surge of hatred ran through her, causing everything around her to be tinged with crimson. She had to find him. She had to make him pay.

Night was falling now. She thought about her home, and instantly a sense of foreboding hit her. A part of her was warning her to stay as far away from the dump as possible. But she was blinded by rage. She had to haunt him.

She slipped down the alleyway. It was dark, but she could still see everything clearly. She quickened her pace. She was moving much quicker than she had when she was alive.

She finally came upon her home. The sense of danger gripped at her mind, practically screaming at her to stay away. She ignored it as she slammed the door open.

The stench of alcohol was potent, as was a slightly sweet scent that wafted through the air.

"Victoria? Wh… where's my mo… money?" a familiar voice slurred. The sweet scent hit Victoria hard. She wheeled around. It was coming from her father.

Forget a crimson tinge, the entire world was now bright red. She advanced on him, and slammed him against the wall. "You bastard," she spat. "You drunken bastard!" She threw him off of the wall and onto the floor. She hated him. She hated him and she wanted to kill him.

"Wh… what's your problem gi...girl?" he said weakly. She went down to the floor and grabbed his collar, and she lifted him up without effort. He was so close, and his flesh was so exposed, and she was so thirsty. Almost as a reflex, she bit down on his neck, sucking in the blood. It was bitter, but she needed it. Oh, she needed it.

Why did she need it? Why did she need this blood, this warm bittersweet blood? Why couldn't she stop.

She barely heard his last gasp of breath, but she continued to suck his body dry of blood. When it was gone, she pulled back. The bastard was dead. She could take care of her brothers alone.

"Victoria?" a small voice stuttered. "What… what happened?"

She turned around, licking the blood off of her lips. The two little boys smelled so sweet… oh, she wanted their blood. She wanted them. No, she needed them. She couldn't control it.

She approached one of them and she lifted them up into the air. "It'll hurt," she murmured. The boys both screamed as she brought her teeth to his neck. The other tried to run away, but she was able to grab him as she sucked the other one dry. Oh, she felt amazing! She finished the boy off, but the burning sensation remained in her mouth.

"Victoria, it's me. It's me. It's Willie. Please," the little boy begged. He was so weak, and she was so strong. She grabbed him, and slammed him against the wall. He screamed out in pain. "Victoria!"

"Goodbye," she whispered. His scream pierced her ears as she drank in his blood. Out of the three of them, his blood clearly tasted the best. She drank it slowly, thoroughly enjoying every drop. His screams stopped, finally. She kept drinking, trying to suck some more from this skinny little boy. Willie… oh my god. She pulled herself away.

She had killed her brothers. She had killed her little angels. They were dead. Wait, if they were dead after having their blood sucked like hers, shouldn't they be with her. Shouldn't they be dead together?

She wanted to cry, but no tears came from her eyes. She let out a rasping sob. Why weren't the tears coming? She glanced around the room, and she caught her reflection in the glass. She moved closer to it, reaching out to touch it. It couldn't be real.

The girl reflected in the glass was beautiful. Her mouth was bloodstained, red against pure white skin. The freckles that had mocked her through life had disappeared. Her features had sharpened, giving her an angular beauty. Her red hair was curly, but not at all frizzy. But her eyes… her eyes were a bright red.

If she was not a ghost, she was a monster. A murderer. No wonder the boys weren't with her. She didn't deserve them.

_I'll keep you company_


	3. Of Anger and Water

**A/N: Special shout out to Pilatus the stuffed pig! He helped me write this chapter.**

**Thanks also to Carefree- Kitten and Izzyv1o for reviewing. Anyone reading this story because Izzyv1o won't shut up about it in her story, A Release of Pain (which you really should read by the way) should drop a line and mention it to her. You might get extra cookies.**

**So... Chapter Three... enjoy.**

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_In one glorious harmony_

"Oh no," Victoria murmured. "Oh no."

There was nothing else to say. She was a murderer, and even worse, she had enjoyed killing them. She had enjoyed sucking their blood. She had enjoyed their blood- curdling screams. She had enjoyed every damn second, every damn yell, and every damn drop.

She was covered in blood. She licked it all off of her fingers, like she used to get every possible bit off food she could back when she was alive. She forced herself to pull her fingers away from her mouth. This was her little brother's blood, not food.

She fled from the room and pulled out her Sunday dress. It was the only other one she owned. She pulled off her other dress and threw it on the floor. She slid the other one over her head. Her hair had managed to escape from her bun, so she grabbed another hair ribbon and tied it back. Would she need anything else? Why would she need anything? She was dead! Right?

She took one last look around the place she had called home for so long. How had she survived? She hated this place, but the prospect of never coming back made her sad. Death was a funny thing, she decided. It seemed to have a different effect on everyone it struck. Maybe, she prayed, her two little angels had made it to heaven.

She fled into the night from her house. Death, it appeared, had heightened her senses, so she could still see everything clearly. And as per usual, she hated everything she saw. If she was going to be stuck on earth for all eternity, she couldn't stay here. She had to leave the town, or maybe even the country.

She ran down the road, holding her breath as to avoid breathing in the intoxicating scents that emanated from everyone. It was easier than she thought it would be. Perhaps it was from all the blood... Victoria shuddered at the thought. Even though it was late, she wasn't tired at all. She ran down a familiar street, and images raced through her mind; images of screeching girls and whirling machinery. She tried to push it from her mind, but the hate raged through her. She wasn't even sure how she ended up at the factory, pulling the door off of its hinges.

It didn't matter how it happened, all that mattered was that it did.

She ran around in a frenzy, screaming out in pain. The memories, fuzzy as they were, ate away at her. Those stupid girls! They were worth nothing. These stupid machines! They were nothing but a way for rich, fat, old men to stuff their wallets and put extravagant amounts of food on their tables while their workers starved to death.

She effortlessly lifted a machine off the ground and she threw it down to the floor. It created an obvious dent. The machine itself would never be used again. The poor children forced to work it would be able to have a day in peace.

And didn't all the children deserve a day like that? Victoria curled her lips upward, and for the first time in years, she could almost feel the smile reach her eyes. She reached for another machine, and this time she ripped it apart, piece by piece. The next one she saw, she threw into a wall. She continued in this fashion until every single damn machine was destroyed. And to think; she hadn't yet arrived at the main event.

She flew up to the dusty card room, where she had wasted her days in a formulaic routine. Every detail of the room was sharper now, clearer. It was uglier than before. Victoria could see every speck of dust that clouded the air. She inhaled and it tasted bitter. It burned her mouth and throat.

"This is for my brothers!" she screeched as she ripped a machine apart, relishing the sound of metal breaking away from metal.

"This is for my mother!" she screamed. This time, she chose to slam it against the wall. She continued yelling out as she destroyed each life- ruiner, one by one, before reaching her own.

For barely a moment, she stared at it. She had stood in that very spot for hours without end, screaming on the inside, but staying silent. No one else had to share her pain, but they all deserved too. Why was she the one resigned to this sorry fate, while the other girls would continue with their screeching? They would continue staying close and being friendly and making snide comments about Victoria behind her back.

There was a single piece of red hair, casually strewn on the machine's top. Victoria reached and took it in her hand. Here was proof, sheer proof, that she had once been human. A miserable, worthless human.

"This for me!" she yelled one last time, before ripping this to shreds. She threw the shreds to the wall, on the floor. Several of them made holes, which made Victoria laugh.

Victoria could hardly believe that the musical, yet somehow maniacal laugh was hers. For so long, her laugh had been dry, and emotionless. Now it sounded like little bells, tinkling in a strong wind. Lovely, yet undeniably chaotic.

She ran from the factory. The sun would rise soon, and her skin would light up like diamonds. Then of course, she would be found out. Where could she go? Where would it be safe?

For a spilt second, Victoria could have sworn she had seen water. She could have sworn she felt a breeze whip across her face. Was it possible that... the only way to safely escape was in the water?

There seemed to be an invisible force pushing her a certain direction. It seemed as if it would be easy enough to defy, but Victoria had a feeling that this was safe. If she left this force push her, everything would be all right.

She ran, letting the push guide her to what was hopefully safety. The sun began to rise, and Victoria saw her skin light up, as if there were jewels encrusted in it. She quickened her pace. No one could see her.

She stopped the moment she saw water. She felt something sink in her stomach the moment she remembered she couldn't swim. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She could go with oxygen indefinitely. She could not drown.

She went to the edge of the water, and for a moment (although the invisible force was urging her to move) she looked around. She was leaving her former existence behind forever. She was leaving memories of her mother behind. She let out another rasping sob. Tears would never fall again.

But as she remembered the blood on her hands, the blood of her family, she slowly entered the water. Her dress weighed her down slightly, but she wasn't going to take it off. When she reached the other side, she would need something to wear.

The water felt warm against her cold skin. She could feel her feet slipping as the depth increased. Finally, she took a step forward and her foot landed on nothing.

Her heavy body began its descent. She tried to push herself forward with her arms. She could feel the water's resistance as she moved further into the depths of the unknown.

Her existence, as she knew it, was over. She was facing a new destiny.

_Waltzing through destiny forever_

_

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**A/N: Reviews are welcome. Flames are not.**_


	4. Of Thirst and First Impressions

**Twilight is not mine. Neither is the song.**

**Reviews are welcome, flames are not.**

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_Dance me into the night_

Victoria was thirsty.

She had arrived on shore somewhere only two weeks before. She had swum a great distance, yet she hadn't been very tired. So she contented herself in wandering, and attempting to... free her spirit, for lack of a better term. She wanted to leave earth, just like her little brothers. So she threw herself off of a cliff.

The falling had been an interesting sensation, but the fact that she survived had put a damper on the whole attempt.

Then of course, she tried to drop a boulder on her head. But after effortlessly lifting and dropping it, she was still very much on earth. Damn.

After several failed attempts over the next two weeks, Victoria noticed that she was feeling weaker and weaker. The burning sensation in her throat began to return slowly, until it was all she could think about. It no longer mattered that she was a murderous being with unnatural strength and a pretty face. She knew what she needed. She needed blood and she needed it quick.

Unfortunately, there were no humans around.

No! Not unfortunately! If there were no humans, then Victoria couldn't drink, and then maybe she'd die of thirst. (Well, not actually die but- oh! This was so confusing.) And then no more innocent lives would have to end. Her... existence would just be terminated. She would be the only causality.

She could barely move. All right, she could move, but she was clearly slower than she had been for the past few weeks.

Time blurred together in her weakness, and no matter how drained she felt, she wasn't dying. She was still there. She was still trapped in this existence. She was still a monster, a bloodthirsty, painfully beautiful monster.

She lay down in a meadow as the sun set, praying for blackness to overcome her and never let her go.

_Let me die,_ she prayed.

_Let me truly die. Let me be with them again. Let me see my mother again. Let me apologize to the boys. Do not punish me for what I can not control. Let me die. Let me die. Let me di-_

Crack!

Victoria's eyes popped open. She could smell blood. It was only a small faint trace, but it was blood all the same. She stood up, looking around. Where was it? Where was it? The scent was behind her. She wheeled around, and crouched, ready to attack her prey.

They were coming closer now. Victoria noticed she couldn't hear a heartbeat. What did it mean? Was it... a monster like her?

The footsteps slowed as they drew nearer. Victoria crouched even lower to the ground. "Come on," she growled. "Come on."

The moment she saw him, she pounced into action.

She leapt on top of him, forcing him to the ground. His face was covered in blood, and his teeth were tinged pink. He tried to fight her off, but even in her weakened state, she was still stronger than him.

He wasn't warm like her family had been. He felt like she did. And there was no heartbeat, meaning that he was like her. He was not among the living, yet he was not among the dead.

"Bitch!" he yelled. "What are you doing!" His voice sounded like honey. But Victoria only wanted the blood on his face.

She proceeded to lick it all off, all the while keeping him pinned to the ground. It wasn't much, but oh, it was delicious. When the blood was gone from his face, she urgently pressed her lips to his.

His mouth closed tightly against hers, but she forced it open with her tongue. She searched his mouth desperately, trying to get every last drop. He fought back, and Victoria found herself craving something completely different. She wanted him. She wanted all of him. She suddenly felt him return her kiss with just as much fire, just as much emotion. She pulled up slightly.

"If you want me," he whispered. "Take me."

* * *

Both of them lay in the meadow, perfectly still. Neither of them dared to talk. Finally, Victoria took a deep breath and spoke.

"Where's my dress?" she asked timidly. He propped himself up on his elbow.

"Right behind you," he said. "It's a bit ripped..."

Victoria rolled over and picked it up. The damage wasn't so bad. Anyway, if she was going to be wandering around any longer, it was only going to get worse. It would do just nicely for now.

She noticed that she was still fairly weak as she pulled her dress on. She briefly wondered if she could eat animals. That could work out nicely in the long run... if she was in fact stuck like this for all eternity.

She heard him get up behind her to put on his clothes. Who was he? Where had he found food? Victoria had been wandering around for weeks and no! Bad thoughts! Victoria didn't want food! She wanted to starve herself!

"So," his voice sounded behind her. "Thirsty?"

Victoria turned to face him again. For the first time, she noticed what he looked like. He was handsome, dangerously so. His features were all perfect, but there really wasn't anything about his face that stood out. He had brown hair, and his eyes were bright red. He was looking at her expectantly. She nodded slowly.

"What just happened?" she whispered. She knew what had happened, but she didn't want to believe it. How could she have given herself to someone she barely knew?

"You're a newborn," he said, shrugging. "It happens."

Victoria was confused. Newborn? She wasn't some screaming infant. She was seventeen years old. Was this monster insane? He must have noticed her confused expression, because he continued.

"You don't know what a newborn is?" he asked incredulously. "Do you even know what you, what we are?" Victoria shook her head.

"Vampires," he said simply. "Tell me you know what a vampire is."

Victoria could vaguely remember crawling onto her mother's lap, and quivering with fear as her mother told her stories of the murderous creatures of the night. And now she was one of them. She was a bloodsucking demon. She was a monster; there was no escaping it now.

"To be honest, most humans don't do us justice," the male vampire said, flashing her a dazzling smile. "They just think we're creepy men with high collars who enjoy sucking the life out of innocent virgins. And all those legends about wooden stakes and garlic aren't true. You know?"

"No," Victoria replied, her bell- like voice quavering. "I haven't been a... vampire for long."

"And the one who changed you didn't tell you?" he asked. "I thought it was their duty or something."

Victoria stared at him for a moment. How long had he been a vampire? Who had.. changed him? She asked him the latter, and his eyes narrowed.

"Not a good story. Trust me," he said.

"I'd like to know-"

"Look, I'll show you to the village. You can drink up and then go on your way,  he changed the subject abruptly. "Sound good to you?"

"No," Victoria said. "I don't want to be a murderer."

He raised an eyebrow at her. Victoria could see that he was confused and shocked by her statement.

"Look sweetheart," he finally said. "You're stuck like this. And unless you want to feel drained all the time, you're gonna have to drink."

"No," Victoria said, refusing to change her mind. "I refuse." 

He still seemed puzzled. Victoria didn't see what was so shocking about her regard for human life. She had killed her brothers, her babies, and she didn't want to see anyone else have to die at her hands. The guilt ate away at her constantly, and she didn't want to make it any stronger.

"Look," he said, his voice lowering. "Life is miserable. We're doing them a favor. When we're done, they don't have to be miserable anymore. The pain's all gone."

He was right.

The boys had been miserable. They had been in pain. They barely had lives to loose. Now they could be with their mother. Now they could be free. She could drink the human's blood. She could end their suffering.

She nodded slowly. He smiled, and jerked his head in the direction of the village.

"I'll come with you," he said. "This might be interesting."

He started to go, but Victoria grabbed his hand. He turned to face her, and red eyes met black.

"What's your name?" Victoria asked.

He smiled again. "How 'bout you tell me yours first?"

"Victoria," she said. "Victoria Sutherland."

His smile grew wider. "Nice name," he said mockingly.

"Please," Victoria begged. "Tell me your name."

"James."

_Underneath the full moon shining so bright_


End file.
